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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749095">The Fifty-Fourth Sallies Forth!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAHW/pseuds/AAHW'>AAHW</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Girls und Panzer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Gen, Original Character(s), Sensha-dou | Tankery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:23:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAHW/pseuds/AAHW</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracks Clatter. Guns Roar. And a Bugle Calls. In the picturesque environment of the Great Plains in Wyoming, the Saint-Gauden tankery team is a long way from Massachusetts as they sally forth toward the enemy! Oh, don't call them Saint-Gauden. Just call 'em the Fifty-Fourth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Fifty-Fourth Sallies Forth!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: An idea entered my mind that screamed to be let out. Here's the result.</p><p>Introducing...The Fifty-Fourth!</p><p>Enjoy this oneshot :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The land was beyond beautiful. Majestic. Tranquil. The gold-colored grass blended artistically with those that were lime shaded. This vast grass plain stretched west where it met a dense pine forest, the leaves dancing as gusts of winds gave them the rhythm. This wind carried air so crisp and clean that its taste was sweet and instantly addictive. Far off in the horizon stood purple mountains, their tops covered with snow as rain rolled through the land a few short days prior. In all, the landscape was the quintessential image of Americana, the absolute best the state of Wyoming had to offer to the world. It was a piece of art that only nature could create, where a traveler could admire and be inspired, a sight second only to an overhead view to best soak in the sweeping grandeur, enjoyed by those in airplanes or those of a divine composition.</p><p>Beauty and tranquility that was about to be ravaged.</p><p>It started with the faint sound of a bugle, the player enthusiastic as they blew the instrument seemingly beyond the strength of an average person's lungs. The bugle calls grew louder by the passing of each second when another sound soon joined it, the high pitch whine of an engine working furiously at full power.</p><p>A Panzer II Luchs then barreled over a hill with its turret rotated to their rear. Mere moments later, four M24 Chaffees appeared over the same hill in hot pursuit of the Luchs. The autocannon of the German light tank let loose multiple bursts at their pursuers, but racing at full speed across the open country did their aim no favors. Rounds flew by the Chaffees, their tracers making them look like fireflies from hell. Those that did find their target were only blunted and bounced off the hulls of the M24s. The Chaffees returned fire though they were in the same boat with the Luchs; accuracy was nowhere to be found. The quartet of 76mm guns fired and none of the rounds came close, only succeeding in cratering the Wyoming plains.</p><p>It was a chase that would've been long, tense, and filled with close calls. Keyword─-would.</p><p>On the hill now scarred with track marks, behind the speeding cluster of tanks, climbed an M18 Hellcat. Then another, then a third, a fourth. In total, six Hellcats crested the top of the hill. These American tank destroyers, normally open-topped, were modified to have roofs for their turrets to ensure that there was no dispute of their legality in tankery, not to mention to secure the safety of the operators.</p><p>The Hellcat on the far left turned its turret toward the fleeing Luchs. The gunner peered through her sight and placed her crosshairs on the racing machine.</p><p>"Target locked," the gunner, Hazel, reported. Her hand was on the trigger.</p><p>"You don't need to tell me every time," her commander, Victoria, replied. She was on the periscope, another added fixture along with the turret roof, as she observed the Panzer II. "I know you're wicked with your aim."</p><p>"I know," Hazel said honestly. A terrific blast filled the air where it delivered a fifteen-pound projectile squarely on the rear of the Luchs. The little machine lurched in the air for a few brief seconds before slamming back down to the earth, where it moved no more. Hazel moved away from her sight and turned to face her commander. "It's always polite to ask, though."</p><p>"Trust a Mennonite to be polite," Victoria said with a soft chuckle. "Hazel, I will forever be surprised that you <em>wanted</em> to be our gunner."</p><p>"Yeah!" the loader, Piper, chirped. She just finished inserting another round in the breech. "Ain't you guys supposed to be pacifists or something like that?"</p><p>Hazel brought her arms to her lap and readjusted in her seat to be more comfortable.</p><p>"I am a pacifist, but tankery isn't war," Hazel swirled around and resumed her position at the gun. "This is just a sport that'll look good for college."</p><p>"So true," Victoria added.</p><p>Victoria popped out of her hatch to get a cleaner look at the knocked-out Luchs. She was a girl of African descent, sported black hair that was natural and curly, and her amber eyes shined brilliantly in the sun. Her hair was fairly big too, and was styled to resemble the mane of a lion. Appropriate, as the lion was the most beautiful, ferocious, courageous, and relentless animal that prowled the land. Those were the words Victoria gleefully proclaimed as lions were her favorite animal, so she does have <em>some</em> bias toward them.</p><p>The uniforms that she and her team wore were attire that they adored; a sky blue greatcoat made of wool with a cape around the shoulders. The sleeves went all the way to touch the wrists, and the coat itself reached down below their knees. The coat, dark blue denim jeans, and long black boots made up what they wore on their body, and while it was all incredibly cool to them and was worn with pride, what laid on their head was what they cherished above all. A cavalry-style hat in a dark sand color.</p><p>Victoria's hat was unique as it was adorned on its front with two rifles crossed together stitched in a gold thread. This wasn't only a decoration as it did signify something. Not only was Victoria Ellis a commander of an M18 Hellcat, but she was also the captain of Saint-Gauden High School's tankery team from Massachusetts. Yet they never went by that name as it was far too dull for their taste, not to mention it rolled off the tongue as gracefully as an elephant trying to be stealthy. No, they much preferred a much simpler moniker. They called themselves the Fifty-Fourth.</p><p>"Yah huh, that Luchs is down for the count. One less scout to worry about," Victoria remarked. She reached into her coat, wherefrom the interior breast pocket, pulled out a map of the area of engagement. It was studied for several seconds when she then got on the radio. "Alright, peeps, listen up. We're gonna continue our drive north, where we'll then bang a left at Point 249. We keep doing our sweep for five more miles, then double-back to regroup with the Catholics. Let's form up, standard formation!"</p><p>The tanks of the Fifty-Fourth got together and formed a single line. The six Hellcats composed the center while the Chaffees took up positions at the flanks, two on each side.</p><p>The match they participated in was a special one as it was an exhibition match that celebrated the conclusion of the United States National Tankery Tournament two weeks ago. These matches were being held across the nation, and as they were celebratory, the general vibe of these games was jovial. However, even though these matches were friendly, the sense of competition between teams hasn't dampened as the euphoria of victory was always worthy of being chased.</p><p>What also made this match special was the fact that it wasn't the standard one versus one common to see in tankery. Instead, a total of four tankery teams were out in the field in a two versus two setting. Saint-Gaudens was allied with a school from Texas, Saint Abigail Girl's Catholic Academy. The relationship between the two schools blossomed right from the get-go, with the reason being quite simple; they both had 'Saint' in their names. 'Saints stick together!' was what Victoria and the captain of Saint Abigail cheered when the two first met at the staging area prior to the match.</p><p>With nothing but a vast plain ahead of them, the tanks of the Fifty-Fourth moved at full speed. Ideally, Victoria would've loved that the whole team was composed of nothing but Hellcats, ten in all. However, much of the tankery budget was spent acquiring the Hellcats in the best possible configuration with the 76mm M1A2 gun and supercharged Continental engine that boasted four hundred horsepower. Six Hellcats were purchased, but four more Hellcats were beyond reach with what remained of the budget. As such, four Chaffees were purchased instead. It wasn't the end of the world, really. The Chaffees were fast and had no problem keeping up.</p><p>For around twenty minutes or so, the Fifty-Fourth marched toward Point 249 with their guns pointed in all possible directions to retaliate at an ambush at a moment's notice. Their encounter with the Luchs earlier had put them on guard. Though it was acting as a scout, there was no way that the light tank was alone. More scouts from one, or perhaps both, of the opposing teams surely must be out there. And yet, they spotted nothing. The Fifty-Fourth drove on a grass plain, a landscape with not a spot of cover or concealment for miles. Any enemy scout tank would've been spotted from here to the horizon.</p><p>"Scout tanks don't work alone...do they?" Victoria wondered alone over the radio. She didn't receive coherent words in reply but rather vocalizations that could be roughly described as 'I dunno'. At this, she sighed. "Good talk, guys. Really stimulates the mind."</p><p>Then, she got a reply in clear English.</p><p>"Ah! Heading 190...190! There's the other scout!" exclaimed one of the Hellcat commanders with zeal. "...It's a...It's a Locust!"</p><p>Victoria, out of the hatch, seized upon the Locus with her binoculars. The machine had found a depression on the ground that hid it well, where it then decided to reveal itself and drive like hell to the horizon. Why the Locust did this at all, Victoria couldn't figure. Taking them all out was a fool's game.</p><p>"Lucille, sound the call!"</p><p>The neighboring Hellcat was commanded by the Fifty-Fourth's vice-captain, Lucille. A fair skin girl with a freckled face usually quiet, but when she brought the team's brass bugle to her lips, she became the loudest musician to rival even the thunderous blasts of the heaviest artillery guns.</p><p>Lucille blew her tunes with the bugle, and the Fifty-Fourth all turned to the direction of the fleeing Locust and drove hard. The bugle was an instrument of morale for the Fifty-Fourth as whenever it boomed, it invigorated them all. The call compelled them to do their absolute best and nothing less.</p><p>And yet, though the thrill of a chase and the accompanying sounds of music was all well and fun, the whole encounter didn't sit right with Victoria. Alarm bells were ringing in her head that was getting louder with each yard they treaded. Why did the Locust leave its hiding spot? It was the best position it could ever get in a grassy plain like this. They should've known that there was no outcome where'd they come out on top. If they were smart, they would've stayed where they were, all nice and concealed, and reported the movements of the Fifty-Fourth. Of course, there was the possibility that the Locust was out of radio range from friendly tanks and──</p><p>"Everybody...STOOOP!"</p><p>At Victoria's order, all machines screeched to a spot, tearing up the grass in their wake.</p><p>"They're not fleeing. We're being <em>lured."</em></p><p>"What, to an ambush?" a Chaffee commander suggested.</p><p>"No...Not an ambush. I want everyone to bang a uey <em>right now</em> and drive like you stole these damn things!"</p><p>Without wasting a moment, the Fifty-Fourth turned right around and hammered their throttles toward the direction where they came. Amidst all the noise of whining engines and clattering tracks, Victoria held the receiver for the radio right up to her ear as she adjusted the frequencies and focusing all her concentration on listening. For a few minutes, all she heard was static.</p><p>"Come on...come on..."</p><p>She played with the nobs more when then a voice could scarcely be heard. It was scratchy, and some words were lost to static, but what she did hear confirmed her fears.</p><p>
  <em>"...Fourth...Help...Where...You?...Hurry!"</em>
</p><p>"We're coming!" Victoria replied, hoping that her message to Saint Abigail wasn't as garbled. "Friends of the Fifty-Fourth are never abandoned!"</p><hr/><p>The M18 Hellcat was one of the fastest armored fighting vehicles in the United States Military's inventory, and yet, Victoria felt they weren't going fast enough. She was glued to the radio set, listening for any and all updates from Saint Abigail. Every inch the Fifty-Fourth traveled, the signal grew more potent, and more words could be discerned.</p><p>"...damn! All I see is a buncha assholes heading our way! Where are those freaking Yankees?!" shouted one person from Saint Abigail. Rather strong language for a girl from a Catholic school.</p><p>"Oakley, they're coming. I think I heard their captain over the radio, so they have to be on their way. Also, what did I say about spouting vulgarities over the radio?"</p><p>"POPPY, I SEE NO LESS THAN FOUR IS-2s, GOD KNOWS HOW MANY T-34s, AND WHATEVER THOSE OTHER THINGS ARE!"</p><p>"They're Turán IIs, Oakley! Someone has been slacking on their tank identification homework."</p><p>"...Look, I try. Anyway...WHERE ARE OUR BOSTON BUDDIES?!"</p><p>"En-route," Victoria announced over the radio. "And, FYI, we're from Plymouth, not Boston."</p><p>"You'll be angels from Heaven if you can make it to our position <em>fast,"</em> Oakley said. The sound of a round bouncing off her tank deafened the radio waves. "You, uh, have an ETA of your arrival?"</p><p>Victoria gave a quick glance at her map.</p><p>"Ten minutes at the most. Can you keep them at bay 'til we get there?"</p><p>"Hey, we're no amateurs over here...but pretty <em>pretty</em> please get here ASAP."</p><p>"Stand your ground. We'll be there wicked soon!"</p><p>"Copy that!"</p><p>When Victoria got off the radio, she wasn't given a moment of relative peace when the thunder of distance cannonade was then heard. The sound of an intense firefight as the interval between shots was shockingly brief. The Fifty-Fourth made ready for the upcoming battle; gunners were glued to their sights, cannons primed and ready, and loaders ready to get their guns back in action the moment the trigger is pulled. As the team neared the engagement, the combined cannon fire of the two engaged teams was earthshattering. Ahead of the tanks of the Fifty-Fourth was a ridge with all involved knowing what lay on the other side.</p><p>"Stop at the peak of the ridge. Maintain formation."</p><p>Victoria cracked her knuckles and adjusted her hat so that it would remain secure on her head. She, along with the rest of the commanders, were out of their hatches and looked dead ahead. Those that had gum on them stuffed a wad in their mouths while others took one last swig of water from their canteens before they'd be too busy to think about their thirst. The Fifty-Fourth crested the ridge and had one hell of a sight before them.</p><p>On their left was Alleghenia High School from Kentucky. A force of four IS-2s, five T-34/85s, and five Turán IIs advanced upon Saint Abigail's entrenched position at the mouth of a valley. The Texan school had already inflicted casualties on Alleghenia as three T-34s lay wrecked some distance behind the marching enemy. Saint Abigail's strength was composed of six Churchill VIIs, two Centurions, and their resilient armored queen, a Tortoise. Though Saint Abigail was playing to their strength, remaining hull-down whenever possible, the attrition of combat had already started the affect them. Three of their Churchills have already been lost as the fierce fire from Alleghenia cratered their positions, wearing down the effectiveness of being hull down, which allowed Alleghenia's IS-2s to land their heavy shots to force them to raise white flags. The remaining forces of Saint Abigail were still impressive, with the 17-pounders of the Centurions and 32-pounder of the Tortoise the biggest threats still active, but they were in danger of being overrun and destroyed.</p><p>That was the situation as the Fifty-Fourth saw it; their Catholic allies slowly but surely spiraling to destruction. Not if they had anything to say about it.</p><p>"Poppy, order your tanks to cease fire," Victoria asked over the radio.</p><p>"Uh...pardon me?" Poppy incredulously remarked. She thought all the gunfire made her mishear. "You want us to <em>stop </em>firing?"</p><p>"Yah huh."</p><p>Poppy remained silent, flummoxed, for several long moments as she contemplated what was asked of her. Wanting to trust Victoria, she hesitantly issued the command.</p><p>"All tanks...cease fire!"</p><p>Saint Abigail's machines fell silent shortly after, where now all they did was watch as Alleghenia accelerated to close the distance, emboldened by the new turn of events.</p><p>Why Victoria asked Saint Abigail to stop shooting was for two reasons; One, it allowed the girls to take a breather as the fight they were in was chaotic and sapped their energy where they were now becoming weary. Two, it prevented friendly fire as the Fifty-Fourth did not intend to stay where they were and snipe Alleghenia from the ridge. No, they were going to get right into the thick of it. When it comes to helping their allies, they go all in.</p><p>"Saint Abigail no longer stands alone," Victoria said quietly to herself, her eyes tracking the enemy's movements. She rose her voice to a shout. "Lucille, sound the call!"</p><p>Her vice-captain faithfully did as she commanded. The bugle was raised high in the air, and Lucile played a long, sustained call that echoed throughout the landscape.</p><p>"Charge!"</p><p>The Fifty-Fourth sallied forth, racing down the ridge, the combined noise of ten high-pitched engines and continuous rattle of tracks made for a dreadful cacophony of machinery that drowned out all other sounds. Their actions put Alleghenia in an unenviable position. If they stopped to turn and confront the Fifty-Fourth's charge, they would make themselves easy prey Saint Abigail. They expected the Fifty-Fourth to remain on the ridge and snipe from there, where Alleghenia would have done serpentine maneuvers to avoid incoming fire. The charge wasn't like someone threw a wrench in their plans. It was more like some lunatic threw a stick of dynamite in an enclosed room. And as if they needed more disadvantages, the shining sun was behind the Fifty-Fourth. The blinding beams from the rays obscured the Kentucky school's vision and acted as a sort of cloak for Victoria and her team. Alleghenia were damned no matter what they did.</p><p>The gap between them and the Fifty-Fourth was closed rapidly, yet the Hellcats and Chaffees held their fire.</p><p>"Steady...steady..." Victoria repeated. "Wait for the word."</p><p>All the while, Alleghenia hesitated how to react. For the most part, they continued their advance toward Saint Abigail, but a few T-34/85s broke hard to a halt and began turning their front toward their charging enemy, but it was a decision made too late. The Fifty-Fourth were now one hundred meters away and closing. Point-blank.</p><p>"Fire!"</p><p>A deafening salvo of 76 and 75mm cannons roared and tore the air. Shells filled the atmosphere as they traveled the short distance to their intended targets, and at such a range, hits were definitely scored. But not all proved to be enough to deal the knock-out blow for some. Each of the six Hellcats bagged a tank, whereas only one Chafee managed to score an eliminating by striking one of the Turán IIs. The other Chaffees fired at T-34s and IS-2s and had no effect.</p><p>The Fifty-Fourth now mixed with the ranks of Alleghenian, adding to the utter pandemonium of the scene. Tanks scraped against each other that sent hot metal sparks flying, turrets furiously turned to lay their guns on targets, the air grew thick with the smell of spent powder. The last operational IS-2 was in the middle of its lengthy reload and was promptly surrounded by three Hellcats. The trio let loose a volley that struck both its sides and rear, the impacts like a hurricane for the crew within that sent them bouncing around the interior. What was left of Alleghenia was two Turán IIs that drove like whipped animals to the west across the infinite grassy plain.</p><p>"I'll take care of one!" exclaimed one of the Hellcat commanders</p><p>"I got the other poor bastard!" shouted another.</p><p>"Keep those fingers off the triggers," Victoria ordered. "Let them run. We turned their assault into a rout. Let's regroup with the Catholics and enjoy this victory for at least a few minutes," she switched to her tank's intercom. "Mackenzie, drive us next to the Centurions if it's not a bother for you."</p><p>"Nah, it ain't nothing," Mackenzie replied. "I'm putting this on your tab."</p><p>Victoria let out a sharp laugh.</p><p>"Sure...sure..."</p><p>"I'm serious!"</p><p>"I'll pay you in milkshakes."</p><p>"Nah."</p><p>"No? Well, how about my coconut butter skin lotion?"</p><p>The Hellcat swerved a little before Mackenzie corrected.</p><p>"That's the good brand, yeah?" Mackenzie asked, utterly interested.</p><p>"The best."</p><p>"Please...I'd love a bottle or three."</p><p>"To the Centurions, please."</p><p>"Relaaax, we're already here."</p><p>Victoria's Hellcat parked in between Saint Abigail's Centurions. Appropriately, adhering to the tank's namesake, Saint Abigail's captain and vice-captain each commanded the tanks. Poppy and Oakley served the roles respectively, and each girl was out of their hatches. Poppy had long golden blonde hair with pale blue eyes. Worn on her head was a white scarf that provided some shade from the sun. Her second in command, Oakley, had deep brown hair done in a back braided bun with brown eyes. On her face was a pair of sunglasses whose lenses were tinted in a neon blue. Their uniforms were plain but functional—army green coveralls.</p><p>"Absolutely stupendous!" Poppy exclaimed with a cheer. "That was some darn good maneuvers right there.</p><p>Victoria blushed and looked down for a moment before returning her gaze back at Poppy.</p><p>"We just do what we do; get dirty."</p><p>"And to top it all off, no casualties in your end? Your team is still at full strength!"</p><p>Victoria sported a proud smile.</p><p>"At worst, some mad nasty scratches here and there. They can be buffed out."</p><p>Oakley cleared her throat, which got Victoria's attention.</p><p>"Hey, ah, sorry about...me acting foolish on the radio. I tend not to act like myself when the situation when the going gets tough."</p><p>"If I asked you to find a person who behaves the same while chilling in a chair and being shot at by guns, I'd be put in the ground before you'll find them."</p><p>"Suppose you're right there," Oakley mused. "Alrighty, what's next on the agenda, ladies?"</p><p>"Ah, let's see..." Poppy remarked with thought. She pulled out her map and studied it for a moment. A finger trailed along a path that was behind them. "We'll go into the valley and take up positions on these two hills," she turned to Victoria. "I know you said you like to get dirty, but I do believe your Hellcats would look nice and pretty in concealed positions to target some sides."</p><p>"Mmm, I don't mind being pretty at all." Victoria grinned.</p><p>"Cool. Okay, let's─"</p><p>"Victoria!" the sound of a panicked voice over the Hellcat's radio stopped the conversation dead. "There's a wicked shiesty cloud over to the west!"</p><p>Victoria immediately turned around and aimed her binoculars in the stated direction. There she saw the cloud, thick and gray, that clung close to the ground. It wasn't natural at all but created—a smokescreen. Poppy and Oakley joined in the observation with their own binoculars.</p><p>"That must be the other hostile school," Poppy remarked. She adjusted her zoom to discern anything in the smoke but saw nothing. "Mazama High School from Washington state."</p><p>"They're awfully tardy to the party," Oakley joked.</p><p>"Yeah..." Victoria slowly uttered. "Anyone knows what they field?"</p><p>Saint Abigail's leadership could only shrug. All three girls maintained their attention on the smoke cloud for half a minute when they all flinched when they think they spotted some kind of silhouette.</p><p>"You saw that, right?" Victoria said.</p><p>"I sure did." Poppy replied.</p><p>"Where did it go?" Oakley wondered. Her head turned from left to right when it then stopped. "There it is!"</p><p>"There's two!" Victoria spotted.</p><p>"I see a third!"</p><p>"A fourth."</p><p>"Fifth..."</p><p>"Good. <em>God</em>."</p><p>Emerging from the smokescreen from over three thousand meters away were lumbering hulks of ferocious steel monsters that moved steadily toward the Fifty-Fourth and Saint Abigail. It was Mazama High with their <em>eight</em> King Tigers. They were late to the party, but they were still going to be the life of it.</p><p>"I never...never seen so many heavies," Victoria gasped.</p><p>"Forget the old plan. We make a stand here," Poppy declared. "We'll form our defense around the Tortoise. Its 32-pounder can dethrone those Kings from the front."</p><p>"Sounds good enough to me! I'll rally the Fifty-Fourth behind the Tortoise. We'll do what we can to harass."</p><p>"Understood," Poppy got on her radio. "Chloe, bring the Tortoise forward and lay down fire on the Tiger IIs."</p><p>"You betcha!" chirped Chloe, the Tortoise commander.</p><p>The super heavily armored British behemoth moved forward to start targeting the heavy German tanks when calamity struck, at the worst possible time. A loud, harsh metallic <em>snap</em> was heard, which was followed by the Tortoise swerving hard to the right, bearing one of its sides toward the approaching King Tigers. The earlier firefight saw the machine receive its fair share of fire, and though its heavy armor was thick enough to protect it from elimination, no tank can ever be damage-proof, and enough damage was sustained on one of its tracks to compel it to fail. Worst of all...the Tortoise served as the flag tank for the coalition Saint-Gaudens and Saint Abigail team.</p><p>"Oh god, no!" cried Poppy. "Not now...not now!"</p><p>Chloe exploded out of her turret and wailed to the sky.</p><p>"Lord...stop giving me tests! I have enough of them to do at school!"</p><p>"Can the track be repaired?" Victoria then asked.</p><p>"Chloe, damage report!" Poppy ordered.</p><p>Instantly, Chloe and another crew member scrambled out of the Tortoise and checked the snapped track. A moment later, Chloe reappeared.</p><p>"We have some spare track that we can attach, and that'll fix it!" she shouted. "It'll take ten or so minutes at a <em>minimum</em>."</p><p>"Ten minutes!" groaned Oakley. "The Tigers will be at their most effective range in a fraction of that!"</p><p>"We can...line up tanks in front of the Tortoise to act as a shield...no...The darn thing is too tall."</p><p>Poppy and Oakley went silent for a moment as their minds raced at lightspeed to brainstorm a new path to victory as the old one had become so blockaded. Victoria thought as well and quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one way out of this mess now.</p><p>"You need time. I'll getcha some."</p><p>Before either Oakley or Poppy could respond, Victoria's Hellcat had already turned itself around and drove back toward the rest of the Fifty-Fourth. The team was parked haphazardly around the area, where all the members watched in stunned silence at the pack of King Tigers.</p><p>"Reform the line!" Victoria commanded. "Reform the line!"</p><p>They were snapped out of their daze and got in their standard formation, six Hellcats in the center, two Chaffees on either flank.</p><p>"Sound the charge! Take them head-on! CHAAARGE!"</p><p>Lucille used every molecule of air in her lungs to blow the bugle harder than she had ever done before in her life or by anyone else who played that bugle prior in the entire history of the team.</p><p>Three kilometers was what separated the Fifty-Fourth and the horde of German heavy tanks. Three kilometers of nothing but grass, a plain that stretched as far as the eye could see and beyond. But the grass here wasn't that pleasant golden color or even a lively green, but gray. The grass was dead or dying, with the odd shrub here and there that were little more than bundles of brittle branches. Not even the rain from a few days ago would be enough to save this wretched piece of land. It was condemned.</p><p>Victoria's thoughts were almost as wild and chaotic as her plan. Had she condemned her team with this charge? A frontal attack on a lone King Tiger was sketchy enough as it was; and demanded careful planning and execution. But charging at eight of the fuckers? That wasn't borderline lunacy, nor was it only a step over it; it was a huge leap into the domain of the insane. The outlook for the Fifty-Fourth was grim, but them coming out on top wasn't the objective. She smirked. Even the most psychotic plans could work when all you need is to buy time.</p><p>At two thousand meters away and closing, the commanders of the Fifty-Fourth, all out of their hatches, saw that all the King Tigers have stopped their advance. The enemy began to take their aim at the Hellcats and Chaffees that drove headlong before them. Victoria, through her binoculars, spotted on King Tiger in particular that stood out that was in the center of the line. The sides of its turret and its front hull glacis were covered with spare track links, the dark metal color clashing with the dunkelgelb paint scheme on the tank itself. Then, she turned her vision slightly upward were on the turret waved a flag.</p><p>Victoria imagined the process that was going down in each Tiger. She pictured the gunners peering through their sights with the utmost concentration as they made out the range and reported to their commanders that they were ready to fire. This wasn't a thought experience. In essence, she was counting down.</p><p>"Erratic driving, now!"</p><p>The tanks of the Fifty-Fourth broke ranks and drove in random directions, almost coming close to crashing into each other. Victoria's mental countdown was right on target as the moment she uttered the command, a torrent of flashes went up and down the King Tiger line. Incoming shells screeched as they landed and mutilated the earth with terrific explosions. The Fifty-Fourth made it through the first volley unscathed and continued their rapid charge toward Mazama, but the next wouldn't deliver the same outcome. The Tigers were soon ready to roar again.</p><p>Another barrage of 88mm cannons rang out. Victoria held on to her hatch with a death grip as she braced for what was to come, still looking dead ahead to the enemy's flag tank. She first heard the dreadful, ear-piercing whistles that were followed by the horrible racket of slammed metal. Victoria quickly looked behind her to see three Hellcats with their front hulls smoldering with smoke, the force of the 88s that hurled right toward them powerful enough to spin them out and lay wrecked on the field. She grimaced at the sight, which strengthened her resolve. There was no backing out now, not when friends had to be avenged.</p><p>"Prepare to fire!"</p><p>Accurate fire while moving near top speed and at targets over one thousand meters away was impossible, but the sight of incoming shells could cause the Tigers to waver ever so slightly, perhaps even to make them miss. The Fifty-Fourth needed every opportunity they could scavenge.</p><p>"Fire!"</p><p>The team answered the volley with one of their own, all misses. Some shots sailed over the King Tigers, while others were firmly planted in the shrinking ground that laid between them. The Fifty-Fourth were in the reload when thunder sounded once more. Two Chaffees were struck as if by the hammer of Thor. The poor light tanks ratcheted back several meters upon being hit, leaving the crews inside in a daze.</p><p>"Fire again!"</p><p>The diminished strength of the Fifty-Fourth let loose another salvo...along with two more shells that streaked by them from behind. Victoria instantly turned, fearing that they have been outflanked and been caught in a pincer, but instead, fear gave way to joy. Racing to catch up was Poppy and Oakley in their Centurions.</p><p>"You charged for us," Poppy said over the radio. "We charge for you."</p><p>"Matthew 7;12," Oakley began to recite. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you...Perhaps not exactly what the Lord meant, but I do love the saying!"</p><p>The Fifty-Fourth was now reinforced, but even the powerful 17-pounders of the Centurions could do little to deal with the fronts of King Tigers, especially as the British tanks were firing on the move as well. Their arrival was more like the Fifty-Fourth's bugle; A morale booster, and an excellent one at that.</p><p>The distance shrank to below one thousand meters. The Fifty-Fourth and their Centurion allies expected another salvo from Mazama, but they didn't fire as soon as they were reloaded. Instead, the King Tigers angled their hulls to make their already heavy armor that more impenetrable. They held their fire as the Fifty-Fourth drew ever more near.</p><p>Six hundred meters.</p><p>The Tigers aimed their guns.</p><p>Five hundred meters.</p><p>Fingers were on the trigger.</p><p>Four hundred meters.</p><p>The charge was nearly done.</p><p>Three hundred meters.</p><p>In crosshairs, targets couldn't get any bigger.</p><p>
  <em>"Fire."</em>
</p><p>Decimation. The point-blank range allowed for no misses on either side. The guns of the Fifty-Fourth hit and predictably bounced off the King Tigers, who had a <em>feast</em>. The butcher's bill was all but one of what remained of the Fifty-Fourth, including both Centurions who suffered direct hits on their hulls. Victoria's Hellcat was the lone operational tank on the field but was terribly vulnerable. They received a hit from Mazama's King Tiger that annihilated one of their frontal drive sprockets, send pieces of it, and track to the four winds. The momentum of her Hellcat swung them harshly to the left, where they now stopped. The impact and subsequent spinout left Victoria and her crew with a fierce bout of dizziness. Victoria remained out of her hatch as she nursed her head and stared down the flag King Tiger. Its gun was aimed right at her, so it made it pointless for her to give the order for Hazel to swing the gun around to fire a shot as the turret would never rotate in time, nor would their 76mm do worse than scratch the Tiger's paint.</p><p>She could've hunkered down in the turret and brace for the inevitable shot, but that wasn't her style. She knew the commander of the King Tiger was looking at her through the vision slits, so she wanted to make damn sure that she was staring right back at her. Victoria's face was a stone-cold sternness──total defiance. Hell would freeze thrice over before she'd allow anyone to see her panicked.</p><p>"Well!" she shouted. "Whatcha waiting for?"</p><p>Mazama's flag tank drove forward several meters when the top hatch flung open, and out rose the commander. From what Victoria could see, the girl wore a gray poncho over their uniform and a black flash hood that only left some portions of her face exposed to the air.</p><p>"Ninjas in tanks," Victoria laughed. "I've seen it all now!"</p><p>The opposing commander chuckled for a bit before she locked eyes with Victoria.</p><p>"Nice joke. Almost as funny as this charge we've blunted," she said. The girl crossed her arms. "Now, before I blast you away, you must tell me. <em>What</em> was the point? You shoulda known that the whole thing could only end in defeat!"</p><p>"What <em>was</em> the point..." Victoria echoed. She playfully stretched her back and arms and finished with cracking her knuckles. "What was the point indeed..."</p><p>
  <em>Smash!</em>
</p><p>The front glacis of the King Tiger erupted in flame and smoke from an explosion. The whole machine shuddered, and the commander was knocked around like a ball in a pinball machine. When she composed herself, she was beyond stunned to see a white flag mere inches away from her.</p><p>Victoria, with a smile on her face, turned to look where the explosion came from. Some distance away was the Tortoise Heavy Assault Tank with a freshly repaired track and even fresher fired gun. As soon as its track was repaired, the massive machine moved its 79-ton hulk as fast as it could to get into its effective firing range. The moment it stopped, its monster 32-Pounder got to work and did its job <em>well.</em></p><p>"That," Victoria pointed with a wag of her finger. "That was the point."</p><p>So ends the thrilling business of the day. An exhibition match done and dusted.</p>
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